


God's Toy

by orphan_account



Series: winged creatures [1]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Blood, Bloody Smut, M/M, archangel san, but sexual things happen, incubus wooyoung, it's weird idk, not morally good, not smut, probably blasphemous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:01:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23567998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The archangel hardly looked at him, focusing on the flame in his palm. Wooyoung smirked as he watched him angrily destroy his barely beating heart – not feeling the burn of the fire in San’s hand, too used to the one burning in Hell.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Series: winged creatures [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1902982
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53





	God's Toy

**Author's Note:**

> hello gremlins,
> 
> here have some self-indulgent bloody not smut but sekshi sekshi scene. wooyoung does not die from having his heart taken out of his chest and then burned down by san bc he's a real man like that. how strong. i just realized wooyoung also gets his heart stolen in obsidian skies. what weird things go through my brain, idk, idk. it was rotting in my files so i'm posting it as a woosan, no other reason. should i perhaps write other blasphemous ateez drabbles, i will be thinking abt it
> 
> thank u enjoy bye 
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/mingiopom)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/etoilephilante)

The first time the archangel burnt his heart down, the incubus was in bed with this beautiful human with golden blond hair and honey eyes. She screamed and cried when the man between her meaty legs hauled himself up, his chest bloody with a hole the size of a fist where his heart usually was beating.

And really, the beautiful San’s presence behind him should not have surprised him. He only had time to let a distraught sigh out when he turned around again just to see the charming girl he was playing with, disappear. Disappointed, not anywhere near satiation, the mischievous Wooyoung faced the heavenly creature standing with his heart slowly burning, imprisoned in his long, bony fingers.

The archangel hardly looked at him, focusing on the flame in his palm. Wooyoung smirked as he watched him angrily destroy his barely beating heart – not feeling the burn of the fire in San’s hand, too used to the one burning in Hell. “Well, what a way to greet me,” Wooyoung said, coming closer to San, with silent steps, his bare feet as light as feathers.

“Stop talking, the only sound I hear from your mouth is one of a whistling snake,” he muttered, with this gravelly yet soft voice of his that Wooyoung adored, and he almost felt fed only from hearing it.

He hummed, dark eyes sparkling with a malevolent glint resting on San’s pure face, tarnished with greed and wrath. Oh, he loved what he was doing to that divine being; no girl, no boy, as pretty and weak humans were, were as delicious as the ethereal San was when he soiled him. Slowly, as the hungry incubus stopped next to him, against San’s warm side, resting his head on his strong shoulder, watching his own heart turn into ashes, he let his long and pointy tail tease San’s fluffy white wings.

San finally turned his celestial eyes away from his hand, to look at the demon nestled against him. Wooyoung thought that nothing in the universe could ever be more beautiful than San’s eyes that reflected the infinity of cosmos. His red tail wrapped itself against the angel’s delicate waist, the arrow tip poking at his tan skin. “So, tell me what did I do to cause you annoyance?”

“You do a lot.”

Wooyoung laughed. “Is that why my heart is turning into ashes?”

“I despise finding you between the legs of these weak, pathetic ants you love so much!” San exploded, and Wooyoung could almost see Hell’s flames burn in the archangel’s pupils, his dark and curly hair falling before them and tangling with his long eyelashes.

Wooyoung’s tail slipped under San’s silk blouse, teasing the warm skin there, exploring it like known lands. The incubus grew hungrier and hungrier as he felt San’s raw power, always stronger, so close to him. He kissed San’s clenched jaw, under an angry glare. “Now, now, these aren’t angelic things to say or feel, pretty San,” the latter closed his eyes a second, his lashes trembling against his cheekbones. “Envy, wrath, even greed, I know of an archangel who felt all of those and despised humans too.”

That seemed to wake the archangel up, as he squeezed the heart in his palm, leaving Wooyoung to choke on a painful groan, and he turned his back to the demon, his strong eyebrows furrowed under his black bangs. Wooyoung laughed airily, not offended in the least, tail still traveling on San’s broad and sun-kissed chest, teasing shivering nipples with its tip. His fingers caressed the impressive and healthy, shiny white wings before him, and Wooyoung heard San’s shiver more than he saw it. He giggled, mischievous and overjoyed when he looked at his fingers to find them covered in a sparkling golden oil. San hated him, wanted to burn him whole, and yet he desired nothing more than to be devoured by the incubus – still naked, chest dirty, covered in warm blood, though the gaping hole already had disappeared.

“If you don’t want me to feed on humans, feed me yourself, _angelus meus in aeternum_.” And San, a crestfallen expression creasing his straight eyebrows, turned around to face him again; Wooyoung smirked. And brought two fingers coated with golden oil, dragged them through his own blood, to make San taste. The archangel, so powerful, his aura so crushing, whined pathetically when Wooyoung did not let him suck on his fingers long enough. Wooyoung loved to torture him, loved to see him suffer because of him, loved to see his precious soul turn as dark as the midnight sky. He loved to see powerful beings begging on their knees to feed him. He loved to drink their elixir until the last drop.

“Only me? Forever?” San asked, imploring, wings already soaked in golden as he dropped to his knees before the incubus.

Wooyoung smiled. “You belong to me.” He especially loved to steal God’s toys. “So feed me,” he ordered, an impatient eyebrow quirked. Submissive, with his galaxy eyes worshiping him, San nodded and offered himself, getting rid of his light and refined clothes.

The demon had always thought that San was God’s prettiest creation. Nobody could ever compete against how strongly delicate, how delicious San was; against how beautiful all of his curves were, how his shoulders were perfectly round, his thighs so strong, his collarbones gracefully crowning his chest, his waist so thin. How the cloud of freckles under his jaw created a galaxy on his neck, how his face was more prettily chiseled than a marble statue. He was a work of art, imploring to be tortured, completely defenseless. The angel touched him, licked the blood off his chest, kissed where it felt good. When he felt like he had to take San before he would die from hunger, he pushed him against the bed, and nothing felt better than to see him sprawled on sheets, wings wide open, dripping in gold, obediently waiting to be ruined.

He bit the inside of the archangel’s thigh, and a moan echoed against the four walls.


End file.
